


FADING DREAMS

by Aisha_Adnan



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: Author, Blindness, F/M, Hope, Passion, artistlove, faith - Freeform, lovestory, retinitispigmentosa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23247712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aisha_Adnan/pseuds/Aisha_Adnan
Summary: When a young passionate playwright struggling between his illness and achieving his  dreams meets a girl who was to cure his pain
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story here! It is not related to any fandom or casts so you are free with your imagination! Enjoy this short story!

**_ Fading Dreams _ **

_**A story of regaining lost hopes** _

**Chapter 1**

_"Seems like it is progressing slowly. That is a relief...” the doctor spoke with his eye glued with the ophthalmoscope. He observed his patients retina, observing the progress of it's degeneration._

_As for the poor patient sitting on a chair, staring at the wall blankly. The comment made his eyes waver, "What does it matter? I will be losing it all one day...” he heaved a sigh filled with sadness._

_The doctor shook his head as he removed the device from his face. His eyes filled with pity as he stared at the young lad. He had seen many with such illness, even kids but never had he felt such pang in his heart before like he did whenever he saw him._

_"Those words do not suit you...words filled with such disappointment.." the doctor grabbed his pad to subscribe the male a slight higher dose than usual but enough to keep the male unharmed, "You are a passionate writer and after all you have a dream. You promised me, you will achieve that dream no matter what. So bring up that brave smile like you usually do, young man!"_

_The boy tried but it only resulted in an awkward attempt with his lips trembling too much. It would be scary for anyone with losing their sight slowly right? Darkness was not such a welcoming thing...but along with his sight he was losing his dream. A dream he created to help him face the reality bravely but in fact turns out it was just a way to ignore the truth. Though, every time his would head bump against the cupboard whenever he was cooking, he was brought back to the dreadful reality._

_The doctor knelt before the male, his hand on his shoulder patting them softly, "You are a brave man. You are. Do not lose hope...Face it with a smile like you always do."_

Smile.

The male stared at his face in the mirror, he didn't know if he should focus his gaze on his lips which were awkwardly stretching to the point his cheeks hurt or his eyes that were totally ruining the whole expression with their odd emptiness.

Elior that was his name and cheers to irony, his name meant light. Light which he was slowly loosing. Elior suffered from Retinitis pigmentosa, also known as RP. It was a genetic illness resulting in degeneration of his retina. Unlike a usual person who has the ability to see a whole 180 degrees with their gaze, he could only see what he was straight ahead of him and nothing else.

Elior was still considered one of the lucky ones, for the genetic disease did not appear in his childhood. The symptoms started to show when he was twenty but even then the degeneration was slower than many patients alongside the usual treatment. Yet it couldn't be forgotten that he was still suffering.

A young playwright who always dreamed of his play to be shown on one of the biggest theaters in New York. He was already struggling to get through college and when he finally got his feet in the world, and then his vision started to lose his side. He was still writing and having his plays played at small festivals and even some theaters, even after four years of illness. Elior did not want to lose hope, even with writing getting hard day by day. He had promised. He promised himself to get his play acted in Time Squares Broadway Theater before he lost his sight. He was always enthusiastic about it until that very day. Or was it fear getting the best of him?

The male quickly shook his head, before walking inside the music shop. One he visited daily to play violin. He started learning it about a year ago after he decided to write a play about a blind violinist. He wanted to make the character from the depth of his heart, who knows, it might be his last.

The bell on top of the door rang once he opened it. He had visited the place frequently enough to walk straight without having his eyes inspect every single corner. He began to walk towards his reserved seat when he bumped into a table. Maybe he should have inspected the area in case of changes.

"Oh I am so sorry!" came a shriek from a panicking female came beside him to check if he was doing alright while the boy was busy jumping on one of his feet while his hands clutched onto the other, "We had a few changes, I was calling out to you to wait but-" she quickly shook her head, probably avoiding to complain or putting the blame on him.Now that Elior heard her, he remembered her faintly calling out for him to wait so she could escort him to his seat. Yet the male was too indulged in his own misery. He heaved sigh again before placing his feet back down. The worker still panicking about him being hurt so he quickly grabbed her shoulder.

"Jennie..." he called out her name with his eyes focused on her worrisome wrinkly face, "It is okay. I am fine...” he reassured her.

Jennie's lips curled in relief. Jennie was one of the older volunteers of the place, she was perhaps the only one who didn't see him or the other members with pity yet with compassion. Perhaps if she was younger and not a mother of a teen, Elior would had made her his bride by now. They even joke about it but little did she knew a part of him actually found the thought pleasing. Taken he was just twenty four but for someone losing the light soon, such things stopped mattering.

"Okay now let me get you to your seat...” she grabbed his hand and led him to his appointed place. He placed his hand on the chair, making his fingers feel the cold metal whilst he was sitting. Jennie helped him grab the violin and adjusted the scores before him, "You can see them well?" she asked him.

The male ran his eyes on the sheets, at first it seemed like some notes were missing but upon roaming his eyes carefully he found them. A small chuckle left his mouth, it seemed as if the notes would play hide and seek with him nowadays, and it was even the same with words when he wrote.

Elior soon slowly found himself playing the violin with a light smile on his face. For the past years with him lacking in his usual task, music seemed to be the only thing he was excelling at. Thanks to his strong memory he was able to memorize the notes before he would begin. He plucked on the string while he drew his bow across them to create harmonies melodies. Though he couldn't see it he knew Jennie was watching him with her head tilted and a proud smile. It was always like that. And those were the most peaceful moments.

The very moment was interrupted by the door on the bell and an unfamiliar feminine voice reached his ear drums, "I am sorry for being late!"

His head rose to meet a young girl's face, from afar he couldn't exactly decipher her features but she had long black hair and a wide smile stretched on her face. Elior couldn't help but let his eyes observe her. She wore clothes quite oversize, either she was hiding her curves or perhaps it was just her fashion. At the thought he quickly shook his head, since when was he someone to care if she hid her womanly curves or not. It made him feel like an indecent man but it was not as if he had such indecent thoughts.

The girl soon began to walk towards his direction, the smile still plastered as she adjusted the scarf wrapped across her chest and shoulders. Elior noticed the card hanging around her neck, he knew then that she was a volunteer. Probably a new one.

She gave him a nod as a greeting to which he responded but before he could open his mouth she walked past him. He turned to see she began to introduce herself to Mr. Gray, an old man who was born blind. The old male smiled joyfully at her voice, for the girl it must be his politeness but it made Elior curious.

Mr. Gray expressions mattered a lot whenever he met someone, he had a specialty to detect if the person was categorized with good or bad personality just by hearing them once. At first Elior did not believe that at all but as time went by he was proven wrong. The old man had never smiled so brightly before it almost had Elior hands itch to take a photo but that was one hard job for him now.

Elior shook his head and placed the violin on his shoulder. He thought and observed too much, he should focus on the task before hand if he wanted his dream to come true. Yet the dream....why was it fading from his heart just like the light from his eyes?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The daily struggles of the young man reduced by a single hand extended towards him to help

_**FADING DREAMS** _

_**CHAPTER 2** _

Dream. An illusion. A mere fantasy. Perhaps one could explain it as a film one sees when they close their eyes. But like all good things it comes to an end as soon, once the being opens their eyes. Incomplete or not, it ends no matter what. The human wakes up with a feeling of delight dancing on his skin for the first few moments but as soon those feet hit the cold ground, reality smashes on the head as if the ceiling fell down upon them.

The human is forced to endure the empty reality, one nothing close to their dream. They stand up and shower, doubting they would ever feel the same again. He tries to recall the dream but only manage a few bits of it but he keeps on doing so, while walking down the hill. He ignores the kids playing, the mothers yelling or the two men fighting over a small accident. But soon he blends into his usual routine, his world...and the dream fades away as if evaporating. They even forget the delightful feeling.

And that is when reality turns into tragedy, an empty world, numb feeling and the worth of life falls to null.

That was exactly how Elias felt at that moment. Sitting on the cold bench, he waited for the bus so he could go back home. He gulped nervously. He was supposed to get off work early but the rehearsals for his show were tougher than usual, so by the time they got free it was dark. Darkness. Elior couldn't see at all, he suffered from night blindness as a symptom and the street lights were too dull to be of any help. He still was not used to losing sight all of sudden and then have it to return when in bright light. Unfortunately, he had no choice but to bear with it, so,with a crane in his hand he sat quietly in the otherwise crowded area. He hoped to get home safely, It seemed to be the only concern he had now a days just to get his work done safely. Hoping he would not hurt others or himself. It was as if he wasn't living but surviving.

He heard the bus arrive so he stood up but the massive crowd was faster than him. Despite having the ability to see they chose not to. He bumped into someone and was about to apologize but was pushed back and landed on the cold floor without any mercy. The male did not bother to get up afraid he might be pushed down again. It was until he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and then the pair holding his arm to help him stand.

"Are you okay?" an angelic voice spoke, seemingly belonging to a female but it was quite familiar which made him wonder where he had heard that voice before. He tried to trace his memory but he could not remember.

The girl helped him get into the bus by taking his hand, though he wanted to reject it, since the feeling to depend on someone was not quite pleasent, but he did not say a word. She even got him to the seat. He felt her sit beside him and what followed were moments of awkward silence.

He then mumbled a thank you realizing how rude he seemed. He heard her giggle softly at the panic in his voice, making his tone to sound squeaky.

"No problem...” he could sense her shaking her head, "Um...you are Elior right? The one from the music club? I am a volunteer there. Today was my first day actually...”

The male's jaw dropped to let out an 'ah' as he finally recognized her voice, and her face flashing before him along with the very smile on his very friend. He nodded with a smile on himself, "Yes that is me. Um...I never caught your name though...”

"Shifa." she beamed brightly

He repeated her name quietly, remembering the syllables. It seemed to be a foreign name, he had never heard before. He remembered her face back then and recognized her features to be somewhere South Asia. He hesitated at first but end up asking about perhaps where she was from.

"Pakistan." she answered, "I came here because my father post got shifted here and since then this is my home...” Elior could already tell she was beaming. The rest of the ride was not awkward anymore. The two exchanged information and surprisingly they were quite agreeable on things they disliked. They could go on and on ranting about it.

In that moment with her, he really forgot the feeling of loneliness.  
.  
.  
.

Shifa. A name meaning cure. Her mother would always say that her smile is the cure to every pain and she held to those words.

She became a girl with ambition to put back in piece of once shattered hearts. She volunteered in almost every club or camp made to assist or simply bring happiness to the impaired ones.

The light hazel orbs became a ray of sunshine in mine hearts. They way her plumps lips would curl could teach anyone how to smile and her laughter became the definition of itself for many...even for Elior.

Since that day the two had been inseparable, most specifically after discovering they even had a mutual love of Peaky Blinders and then it all sparked up. The two would talk endlessly in and out of the club. He even shared his work to which she assisted him in writing.

Time went by and Elior grew fonder of the young girl. He couldn't exactly see her fully. Sometimes just her face, at times even that was too blurry. It was even hard to remember her full structure but that did not matter to him for he could hear her laughter. In those moments with her, he didn't feel disappointed in his limited sight anymore.

Perhaps that was love. Perhaps...he was not sure. The giddy feeling whenever she would call for him. The need to see her almost every time. He was unsure if it was really love or some teenage crush, though he was now far away from being a teen.

Hence, he had his lips sealed.

Yet that was not the only case. He was sure Shifa would never feel the same for him. Call him a pessimistic lover yet it was how he perceived the situation. She was kind enough to befriend him but he could never fill in the spot of an ideal soul mate. He was in the end....impaired.

The male was pulled out of the sad train of thoughts by a light ding on his phone. He grabbed it lazily and brought it close to his eyes so he could read the words. With his degeneration of cones even the words has begun to appear and disappear continuously. Therefore, it took him some time to know the mail was from York Theater Company.

He immediately shot up from his place and clicked the notification to open the mail. Zooming in to every word he read them about twice. He read it out a loud yet his ears refused to believe what they hear but his mouth letting out cries in between with happiness. The moment was surreal.

Till the time he was told he was diagnosed with retinitis pigmentosa, to the journey of his light fading to darkness. That moment was the happiest of all. He stood on his bed and threw his fist in the air, the light of hope made him feel on top of the world.

The journey of dream converting to reality. His script was accepted. He had been trying for years but got rejected. He corrected his errors despite the struggles of his sight. And now, he finally was able to get it accepted.

He felt the happiest at that moment to the point his eyes swelled up.

.....

The rest of the months went in a blur he met the team and soon they were onto auditioning the actors. He would be so busy trying to choose the best one, who would justify his character even if it had to be the postman who gave Robert the sad news about his contract being canceled by the company. At times he even felt the others were annoyed by him being so specific about the details but he just wanted it to be perfect.

Perhaps that was the reason why he hadn't found the one to play the role of Robert. He wanted the male who could exhibit the emotions on point. The one who could display the struggle of a blind artist yet he was unable to find anyone perfect for the role.

Perfection asks for time. One thing he did not have. The fact was not just cleared by the way his team member's face turned down or the small chorus of huffs he would hear when he shook his head. It was when he visited the doctor for regular weekly appointment. The doctor's face fell as soon as his eyes landed on the picture of his retina displayed on the screen. His gaze low but wandering around as if struggling to contain their emotions yet wanting to hide them. He heaved a sigh and finally rose those hazel orbs to stare at Elior.

"It was all progressing well till now..." he began which seemed to be words to himself, "All of a sudden the degeneration pace has increased, have you been taking the medications regularly?"

The male felt a lump stuck in his throat at the news so he gave a nod instead of speaking. He had felt the drastic change too. He could barely make out faces anymore, they were a lot blurry and the hide and seek game with words had gone a bit too far. His lips twitched not knowing if to curl upwards to laugh at his irony or down to cry.

"How much time do I have?" he let out a shaky breath with his hands joined together as if to pray

He looked at the blurry figure of the doctor, he didn't even had to focus much to know the expression on his face. An expression of pity and defeat. And just like that he didn't even need his voice to know the answer.

He was running out of time.And that lead him to sit in the local cafe drinking his favorite Oreo milkshake with a frown.

Shifa on the other hand stared at him with her lips pressed together in a thin line. He had never seem so down ever since the theater accepted his script. She drank her own milkshake whilst her mind went over all the people she met. She wanted to ease his worries, perhaps by finding or suggesting someone to play Robert. Her eyebrows were joined together as her mind raced through pictures until a face clicked in her mind. Her lips curled in a smile and face lit up.

"Oh!" She beamed loudly even making Elior flinch out of his own train of thoughts, "I have someone who can play Robert! The high school student among the club, I heard he was quite popular in his school for his music and acting before the accident. What was his name?" she mumbled trying to remember but halted her thoughts when she saw Elior sighed in relief but there was no ounce of happiness

She huffed at his response, "Why do you express as if after losing your sight you will stop living?" she sighed, she had always felt her stomach churn whenever he would say the words I don't have much time' something one only says when on the death bed.

"Because my life does end, no?" the male responded without hesitation making Shifa's heart sink more and to add more burden on the sinking ship, his lips stretched, "I won't be able to write...to read..."

"John Milton was blind, he wrote the greatest poems after that.." she mumbled cutting him in between, her head down she fiddled with her fingers, "Artists like you...I always believed that artists were carriers of universal language. You can tell the story of a person to that of a tree because you can see beyond the eyes of a human." she let out sets shaky breaths before looking up at him to find him looking at her too. She smiled.

> _"To be a writer, one doesn't need human eyes but the eyes of the soul...”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please make sure to drop comments and vote to let me know what are your thoughts on the story!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the journey of creating his dream into reality is it certain for the results to be positive?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to give your feedback! Also with the virus spreading dangerously, keep youR hygiene and diet healthy and STAY AT HOME

_**Chapter 3** _

_It was a sunny day. The sun shined bright yet the wind was cool. It was like a perfect day for a bunch of high school boys to play football that day. Cheers and shouts filled the air, an aura of competition heavy in the air but so was of strong friendship._

  
_“Carlos!” A voice called out and the curly haired man turned to it. His curled dripping of sweat yet his plump lips stretching wide. His eyes sharp and everywhere. He was in fact the best player because of that._

  
_The other boy kicked the ball for him to have but he accidentally kicked it too far. The crowd let out a chorus of ‘ooh’s’ of disappointment. Some even playfully pushing him. Carlos only shook his head with hands on is hips before volunteering to get the ball._

  
_He ran towards the direction they all witness it go. He ran miles, even out of breath that he had to stop in order to breath. It was then he saw the ball on the other side of the road, stuck to the tree. The sight of the lost ball excited him again and he ran towards it. Not even looking at his side._   
_Only if he had. He could had missed the car of mishap. One that shattered his life in one sweep. One hit and he went flying across the road. His head heavily bleeding that he had to lie in his own pool of blood till the ambulance arrived._

  
_The very accident had taken his sight forever._

  
_For a child to lose his sight in such days of youth. He felt it was over. He gave it up. It life went on and he forced to get through the days. It wasn't until a year later he found the courage to pick his violin again and played all his sorrows away._

After hearing the story from Shifa, Elior did not know what to expect when he stared at the boy standing upright before him. Elior could notice his body move slightly up and down, it was either he was nervous or too enthusiastic about getting the part. He had given and astounding performance, hence, the other had no reason to reject.

“Do you think you will do your best till the end?” Elior asked with his pen pressed against his lips  
“Yes sir!” he almost shouted as if a young boy in military. Realizing his outburst he cleared his throat, “You can count on me. I will prove it.”  
And he did. Elior was quite impressed to see him on stage, with the emotions he poured and the smile he wore after. He couldn't see the script, nor would he see the audience in the crowd yet he was excited like any one would even nervous about giving his best.

Elior lips curled into a smile whenever they would land onto the excited boy and at all those moments he would be reminded of Shifa's words. An artist sees through the soul just like Carlos, who heard the script just once but carried his character with his heart.

Even Shifa was there with him throughout the period. To guide him, she became his eyes. She would explain him every detail that he missed or his blurry vision refused to catch. He never missed anything and the play went smoothly. It was funny how a mind worked, when she described each and everything with his eyes taking a full round he automatically began to see but not clearly at all yet it was there.

Perhaps he had underestimated the nature and the power of the Creator as Shifa implied. He would watch her take breaks and pray, in that moment watching her in such a state of peace would take him in a trance. Elior had never thought about God nor nature. For him storytelling was just a game of his brain to create illusions for the sake of entertainment. Yet it never occurred to him the connection between an artist and nature. The inspiration you get from a moment or in fact a river. For an artist sees beyond these eyes and into the soul of nature.

In the process of achieving a dream he held so long, he achieved something he never thought he needed. And that was the true identity of an artist.

The happiness did not last long though. It was just a week before the play was to be shown in theater. Elior woke up in the morning yet he still couldn't see anything, all he could tell was there was light yet nothing in shapes. Panic erupted like lava from once a sleeping volcano. He sprung up from his bed and ran aimlessly around. He cried out loudly, his screams echoing through the walls. He then stumbled upon a stool and fell down, with his knees banging against the tiles and he was sure he heard a crack.

All the young male could do was sob, tears of helplessness falling down his cheeks as he lied down on the cold floor but the coldness was nothing compared to the sorrow in his heart. He could not even fulfill his dream that he lived for.

So what was he anymore?

......

Elior soon gained his conscious back after a while yet he kept his eyes closed. The exhaustion still heavy on him that he wanted to go to sleep again.

He could hear voices from afar, he couldn't exactly decipher as to what they said or whom they belonged to. Yet there was one sound that made his eyes open, a beeping of the machine. One he once heard in a movie, a hospital scene exact.

When the male felt his eyelids open, he could tell the place he was at was brightly lit but that was all, he could barely make out the shape of anything around him. The observation brought the memories of the very morning back and so did it bring back the nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach.

It wasn't a dream. This was reality he had really lost his sight, for good this time. Tears brimmed in his eyes and soon rolling down his face. The very scenario brought a quote from an essay he once read. Life is a mixture of sniffles, sobs and at times happiness but sniffles being dominant.

Coming back to his senses, he could register the whispers being desperately exchanged. It was his doctor, the one he visited for years and alongside was a stranger. He could hear the panic as they questioned over and over again as to how it could happen. The voice that came next made Elior heart clench further. It was his mother, crying and sobbing to the point her words were muffled. In fact, Elior could barely understand what she was saying.

It was as if everyone around him was desperate to have something to point their fingers against. Something or someone to hold responsible. They were all shocked as to how the progress sped up...no one expected him to be blind so early.

Yet it did not matter to Elior. What changes would there be if he had someone to point a finger at, even if it was himself. To have someone to loathe for the rest of his life when it was all written in his fate. Fate a dreadful monster no one can rage war against. Even if someone tries to, they only end up dropping their arms. Exhausted and wounded. Wounds deeper than before.

He forced his eyelids to open, not that it made any difference to him with darkness looming before him. Though he had to so the others could know he had regained conscious.

He soon felt someone leap upon him. The sobs grew louder as a pair of arms pulled him close. He could instantly tell it was his mother so like a child he curled up against her chest. He clutched onto her arms before he let himself cry. Tears rolling down his cheeks, his body trembling. He did not bother to show a brave front like he usually did. He only let himself crumble and fall.

Because he felt his life had ended right at that moment.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After loosing his sight- filled with despair. Will there ever be a light of hope?

_**The last chapter** _

Isolation. As Google define, far from any buildings homes or people that is having minimal or to the extent of no contact with anyone or anything. At times the word comes in novels or minds, for a man punished and exiled. Or a man abandoned by society. They do not fit anymore.  
For Elior... It was him who abandoned the society because his passion abandoned him. His dreams abandoned him. For he could not write anymore. His pen sitting on the table would not ink anymore. The computer now a home for many spiders but useless to him. He had left anything....or was it them who left him?  
Situating himself in one corner of the house, he mourned for the gone. For the beautiful sight of the magnificent world, he could not admire it anymore. The darkness had dawned upon. A constant state of nightmare, he could not move to help himself. Nor could he pinch himself awake. At least dreams of the night were his refuge. He would dream of the mesmerizing sight of Green Lakes State Park. He would let himself flow freely in the crystal clear lake, letting his worries sink to the bottom. Yet they would resurface again, even the lake would tremble in agony. 

  
The pain was simply unbearable.

  
As for Shifa, she refused to give up on him. She would visit his house everyday though she only had to chat with his mother. Frankly his mother could never keep a conversation going, hence, she would sit for hours in silence. A silence deafening, her eyes begging to get a sigh of the ruthful male. So she could comfort him, hug him. She could tell him that the world did not end. 

  
Though she would only return home with a howl of defeat.

  
So she would drop on her knees. Before the One she had her belief. She would beg for his peace. To lighten up the darkness engulfing him before it could eat him away. Those nights when she let the tears fall, were also the nights she felt relieved. Even hopeful. She had seen the male achieve a dream despite his illness, she inspired to be him. She admired him. To see him fall like that painted her, it shattered everything.

  
With the spirits regained at night, she would make her way to his house again. This time she caught him. She almost squealed and clapped like a seal at the sight. He was in his kitchen, learning how to cook from his mother. She finally saw him smile, even if it wasn't from the heart but she could tell it was a start.  
Her mother whirled to wipe her tears when she caught the young lady, "Shifa!" she clapped her hands and ran to hug her. Even Elior froze and looked over his shoulder. Oh did he wish to see that face again.

  
Shifa wished the same but there was a lot more she wished. Since that day she stuck to him like chewing gum, or so she would joke, but Elior never found her presence irritating. In fact, it would bring a smile on his face. Though he could not see the face that would brighten up his day though her cheery voice and that very laughter was quite enough to make the dark orbs sparkle.

  
It was one day, sat at their usual cafe with their usual strawberry cheesecake ice cream when Shifa spoke, "Err. Elior...the team. It's still waiting for you to return."  
The male instantly shook his head, "It's no use...’ he answer before taking a bite, letting the sweet taste take away the bitter feeling.  
Yet Shifa persisted, "Elior! We are almost ready! No one wants to perform if you are not there."

  
"Why wait for me?" the male sighed, "What is the use if I cannot see the very play? My dreams have shattered! They are meaningless." he exclaimed with his eyes teary again  
Shifa let out a sigh and reached for his hand, "Nor can Carlos. He cannot see either...” she softly whispered

  
That was enough to make Elior halt. He had forgotten about him. He had forgotten about every member of the club. Each and every man who lost what he had or maybe more. He had hid himself in a cocoon where he pointed fingers at fate. He was selfish. Though he had realized as a human whose ego always catches his tongue he remained silent.  
"The dream you started became dreams of many..." Shifa continued, "Come back and witness the day of performance. You will know that losing your sight is not the end."

  
Once concluded, she fell silent too with her hands clasped together as she waited for his final decision. With the war of hope and despair, she wondered who would win. Only Elior could decide.

  
....

  
The day came. The day the play was to be premier. Seats were filled to the fullest, it was actually unbelievable how the story still not untold attracted so many to see. A story that could inspire. 

  
With the crowd hopeful, the crew had their spirits up. They were all ready and dressed up, even excited. Apparently, Shifa had lied. She lied about Elior agreeing to come. Hence, she just wished him to appear. As the time passed every single member would ask about him and she was left to respond with just a sigh and eyes cast down in shame. As the time went by the very essence of joy faded along.

  
Yet still they went on stage and gave out their best. The crowd was in awe, a wave of tears and wails changing to cries of happiness. They lived every moment. Yet Shifa only felt happiness. This all meant meaningless without Elior. She watched them perform with a white card in her hands.

  
It was from Elior.

  
So she held it to her heart yet it crumbled under her fingers. She let out a whimper as his caste her eyes down to read it again. The paper covered with wet patches.  
'I am sorry' it read, 'I could not have the confidence to stand beside you in backstage. I could not pretend it was all fine. You have been the best thing in my life, one who eased my pain. You requested something for the first time but I failed to do it. I am sorry...”

  
She sniffled before the card crumbled further under her fist and hand wiping her rosy cheeks. She did not know what to see when she saw the story flow before her. It felt to be in vain. The dream held for so long, kept and refined like a diamond yet now available to the market. The labor was not there to appreciate it, and appreciate the beauty of his hands. 

She wondered how he must have felt if he was here. So she closed her eyes and let her other senses take control. She wondered if his would his heart leap when the crowd cheered. Would his lips trembled when the clapped? Would he still dance and sing along Edward? The feeling of achieving his dream to such perfection. How would he had felt?

Little did she know, that there was a man in black? With all the answers conveyed by his smile. Yes his heart leaped, yes he felt so exhilarated with his achievement that he sang the loudest. His body swayed in delight. 

  
The darkness lost its dominance, for he was in artist.

  
One who sees from the soul?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being with me in this journey!  
> Stay healthy and safe!


End file.
